It's Christmas Already?
by Bionic Pikachu
Summary: It's Christmas, and Victor forgets to get his teenage daughter a gift. After being with her father for almost a year after 3 Mile Island, she doesn't expect much. But Victor finds a way to try and make her feel happy this Christmas, even if he doesn't get her much of a gift. One-Shot WARNING: Domestic Sabretooth! He's trying his best to be a good father! R&R please!


**Background: **_After the events at 3 Mile Island, Victor discovers one of the young mutants at the island is his own daughter. Taking her under his wing reluctantly, she and Victor become attached. She is 17, codenamed Fang and not yet fully adjusted to the life of a mutant on the run who kills people for a living, or for fun. Victor attempts to make her see his way on things, but they argue and bicker like a married couple on a regular basis. It's been a little less than a year and it is Christmas time, and Victor has forgotten all about it. In attempts to be civil with her father, she cooks a Christmas dinner for the two of them. He decides to go get her a present to make her happy._

The sweet intoxicating scent of beef filled his twitching nose. Eyes opening gently, he took in the blank wall and window that he faced. It was dull and boring, but he wasn't interested in that, he wrinkled his nose: someone was cooking. Without another thought, he sat upright in bed, turning to look around the room, not that he would expect someone to be cooking food in his bedroom though. Slowly he began to pull himself out of bed, scratching himself and stretching his limbs. The door to his room was cracked open a bit, and from that, let in the delicious smell of a variety of foods. He pulled on some pants and made his way down the hall.

The delicious smells got stronger and stronger as he got closer to the kitchen. Silently, he stood in the walkway to the kitchen watching his daughter bustle about in the kitchen with a questioning look on his face. "What'cha up to, Squirt?" He asked, leaning against the wall.

She nearly jumped upon hearing his voice, having been so engrossed in making her meal. Peeking over her shoulder, she spoke, "Cooking," It was a simple answer, and an obvious one. But even then, it didn't seem to satisfy her father.

"Why?" He asked, shrugging away from the wall and browsed over the selection of food she was preparing, which included potatoes (mashed) a small variety of green vegetables, steaks. boiled cabbage and cauliflower. It was quite a large meal, normally when she cooked, she didn't cook this much. What was the occasion?

She focused her eyes down on the bowl of potatoes as she stirred, giving a reluctant answer. "Well, it's Christmas..." he couldn't quite hear the rest of what she said, she'd let her voice trail off as if telling him what day it was was a bad thing.

"What?" Christmas? There was no way it could be Christmas already! It definitely _was_ Winter...but Christmas? It wasn't hard for him to tell why she was so quiet and reluctant to answer. He'd forgotten. He never seemed to pay attention to these sorts of things, they both knew it. She was still getting used to this sort of life, and he couldn't help but feel a little bad about this. She was making this whole big meal for them.

"Yeah i figured i should cook, why not? I mean, it's what i do every year. I figured this one shouldn't be much different." She gained a little strength and pride in her voice, he liked that. He didn't like her mumbling or whining, it showed she was weak. And he sure as hell didn't raise (not that he raised her) a frail for a daughter! "I only had so much money, and i didn't have a crock pot, and i know you like steak, so i settled for that. I picked up some more beer this morning too, it's in the fridge, we didn't have any left, so i saved you the trip."

She was just too nice to him. He huffed a little. "Alright." He said simply, he felt bad enough as it was, he'd forgotten what was perhaps her favourite holiday, the biggest one of the year, and it was already so late in the day, he needed to get her a gift! Something to make things a little better. Curse her for making him go soft, he hated being so...so domestic. It was kind of nice though, to have someone accept him, if even just a little bit. She seemed to care much more than she should, given their brief yet unpleasant past. He glanced at the clock: _5:36 PM._ He'd slept all day! That must've been one nasty hangover! Granted he did get back here pretty late as well. "Need any help? I can't cook to save my life but i can probably do something." He suggested, it might make her happy to be a bit nicer for the holidays.

"No." She shrugged. "This is my masterpiece and i will not let you ruin it!" She turned, pointing her spoon at his face. She was joking only slightly. That man couldn't cook if the fate of the world depended on it. He'd find out how to mess it up somehow. With that, he nodded, turning and heading back into his bedroom, digging out a shirt and slipping on his shoes. He'd have to find her a gift somehow. It would make her happy.

What did she like? What should he get her? He was hopeless. Walking down the cold streets of new york, he tried his best to spot a store that was open to try and find her a gift. A few boutiques were open, some small convenience stores, a diner or two for the lonely saps who didn't celebrate Christmas with a family, or anybody...Not long ago he was one of those guys.

He studied the displays in the windows of the shops as he passed them by, trying to let something she might like catch his eye. After a while, he felt this was hopeless. She would be done with dinner soon and would expect him back, or at least hope he would be. He had to hurry if he wanted to make her happy. Nearly about to turn back and head back to the shabby apartment they were temporarily calling home, something in a store window caught his eye...

Victor had tried not to scarf down his meal, but eating only turned the attention away from the awkward silence between them. They may have said a couple words tonight, normally they didn't talk too much. They argued and bickered, but besides that she was very quiet. Not long after finishing her plate of food and putting the dishes away, she'd decided she would go to bed. "I'm gonna go to bed now...Goodnight, Victor."

He held up as if to stop her, before reaching around the couch and pulling out a small (shittily) wrapped present. With green crinkled up wrapping paper and red string tied around it, it looked as if a small child had wrapped it. She wanted to laugh, but she found his efforts cute and respectable. She took the box in her hand with a smile. "You really didn't have to..."

"Well in that case i might just take it back." He joked, making her roll her eyes. He gestured with his hands, "Come on, Kiddo, open it."

She tore off the wrapping paper and string and opened the box, inside was a small white fluffy kitty. Stuffed of course. There was no way he'd get her a real kitten, they were both too feline to have to deal with another furball. The kitten was fluffy, had blue eyes and had a bright red bow tied around its neck, although the bow looked grey to her, with her being partially color blind. He had to tell her that it was red, even though she'd never seen the color itself to judge how pretty it was, she always just assumed.

He studied her expression, though it was hard to tell whether she actually liked it or not. He'd went through quite a lot to get it. The woman at the cash register almost fainted seeing him approach her desk, only to put down the stuffed animal and hand her the money. Not to mention the crowds of late-shoppers and the fact that this one was the last one left.

She smiled at it, making a quiet "Awww," as she pulled the thing out of the box delicately, she gave her father a smile. "Thank you, it's adorable." She thanked him, "Your gift is in the fridge," She told him before turning with the kitty in her hands and disappearing down the hall.

Not long after his daughter had gone to bed, he'd gotten up to go get a beer from the fridge, remembering that she'd gotten some from the store today. He smiled and laughed to himself a little when he opened the fridge. On the center rack was a case of beer, with a bow on top and a note taped to it. He in, pulling a beer from the case and pulling off the note. He popped off the bottle cap with his claw as he read:

"_You were right. That fake ID you got me did come in handy, so i got you this, because you know i'm not much of a drinker. _

_Also, there's a leather jacket in your closet...i figured you could use a new one. Your old one was getting worn. I hope it fits, i got an extra large since you're like 10x my size._

_Merry Christmas, Fang_

_PS. Stop calling me 'Squirt', i'm not a little kid"_

It was written in a neat cursive, and he smiled at the note, just imaging the annoyed look she'd be giving him for calling her that silly nickname. She always hated it. Which was why he loved calling her it so much. It was entertaining to watch her get mad at him. She pretended she could take him, even though he could practically squash her like a bug, the little runt. But he liked that, she could hold her own decently, yet she acted like she could take on the world.

He set the note down on top of the fridge and took a swig of his beer, turning, he headed down the hall. Her door was open partially as well, leaving a sliver of light from the living room that cast down across the floor and her bed. He peeked inside, she was already fast asleep, curled up a little on her side with something resting between her arms. He smiled. It was the kitty.

Yup, she definitely liked it. A feeling of accomplishment washed over him and he grinned proudly, before shutting her door.

The next morning he sat on the couch drinking a beer. She shuffled out in a pair of sweatpants and headed to the kitchen for some leftovers for breakfast.

"So i didn't know you slept with teddy bears still, kid."

Her face got hot with blush and anger. "Shut up...and it's not a teddy bear. It's a kitty."


End file.
